Kaine: Salvation
by Darth Skywalker
Summary: After breaking out of jail, Kaine has two goals in life: to kill Norman Osborn and to find and rescue Mayday Parker. He ends up gaining something unexpected on the way. Sequel to "Spider-Man: Redemption" and spinoff of my "Face on the Milk Carton" story.
1. Prologue

_Dear readers - so while you're waiting for the next issue of "Peter Parker: SpiderMan," I thought hey, after the big return at the end of Issue #165, why not give the big guy a backstory as to how he ended up in Peter's apartment and bringing back Mayday? This story takes place parallel to "The Face on the Milk Carton" story arc in that fan fiction, and fills in some of the gaps in that tale. It can also be considered a sequel of sorts to JM DeMatteis' excellent miniseries on Kaine and Ben Reilly, "Spider-Man: Redemption," which itself was a sequel to his earlier work about the two clones, "Spider-Man: The Lost Years."_

_Now that you've got the details, sit back, relax and enjoy the show as Kaine himself will tell us this tale!  
_

**Prologue**

Bronx, NY

For the first time in quite some time, I found myself standing in front of a grave.

The rain poured down, but I wasn't particularly bothered by it. My companion, however, was another story.

I couldn't tell if tears were pouring down her cheek, or if the rain was just that bad, but she certainly looked upset. Her poncho was insulating her well against the barrage of pouring raindrops. As lightning flashed, followed by thunder, she looked at the headstone and stayed in the same position, slightly kneeling for the last ten minutes. She had said a brief prayer when we had first arrived, and then just sort of whispered quietly.

There was a time where I would have mocked this scene, and perhaps called it a pitiful display of weakness. I was the type of person who had once embraced death, knowing nothing but misery, hatred, callousness, and rejection from the cruel world. But the love that I saw on display before me now had been the very thing that had caused me to advance towards my redemption. It had given me hope, and inspired me to fight so no one else would have to suffer like me—the very opposite of how I had once felt.

This was the first time she had gotten the opportunity to pay her respects since the man in whose honor this monument had been made had passed. And what's more, it was because of me that she had gotten this opportunity in the first place. She served time in a Bronx jail cell these days, but tonight I had broken into the jail and snuck her out for just the evening, putting the guards to sleep with a few pinched-nerve maneuvers, tricking the cameras, and using a bunch of other spy-like techniques. I had placed a mannequin covered with sheets in her bed to throw anyone else off looking from a distance.

In my past life, instead of going through all that trouble to allow her to be here, I would have said "serves her right. Let her suffer and pay for her sins. She doesn't deserve this." I would have wallowed in self-pity and said that no one understood my pain. But now I knew how selfish that sounded. Indeed, it was the very person that she mourned that had taught me to forget the past and to think of others besides myself. Which is why I had brought her here, because I knew how much it meant to her.

_Ben Reilly  
Loving Brother, Cousin, and Uncle_

My companion finally stood up and covered her radiant red hair, which was now soaked, with the hood of the poncho. I adjusted my sunglasses and fixed my ponytail, then straightened my trench coat. The disguise was holding up pretty well, although she was the only one so far who knew who I really was.

She turned around, nodded, and I took her arm in mine as we began walking away from the grave. "So Kaine," she asked softly. "How exactly did you manage to get back into the country?"

I gave a little bit of a smile. While it wasn't genuine, I wanted to practice it so it would throw off anyone who thought I was a wanted criminal refugee. Nobody knew me in my past life as being a smiley kind of guy. "Well Elizabeth, how do you think I got out in the first place? I've got my ways. And speaking of which…"

I stopped and turned to her, touching her cheek briefly. "…if you want, you know, I can get you out of your imprisonment. You deserve a better life. You've suffered long enough."

She looked down, her face darkening, then she looked back at me. She gave me a weak smile. "Thank you for the offer…but no," she said, and started moving ahead of me. I began walking behind her, as she spoke with her back to me. "I owe it to Ben to serve out my sentence completely. When he died…any motivation I might have had for trying to leave disappeared. And like I said all those years ago…I can't run anymore, Kaine. I've got to own up to my actions."

She then turned back around and looked at me suspiciously. "What about you?" she asked, pointing at me. "I thought you were going to do the same. What happened?"

If anyone else had done that, I would have become enraged and probably snapped their necks. Then I would have followed it up with sticking my hand in their face, and leaving my burning mark on them. But not in a million years would I do that to Elizabeth. So she could take me down a few notches, I had no problem with that. But perhaps she didn't know what I was after these days…so I told her.

"Ben died," I said. "And the Green Goblin must pay."

She narrowed her eyes. "And what are you going to do once you get your hands on him? Kill him? Then what? What happens to everything you learned from Ben? When is it going to end, Kaine? I thought you wanted peace."

I struggled with my thoughts as I pondered what she said. Could she be right? What would I gain out of killing him? And besides, wasn't it highly likely that he would probably survive anyway?

I nodded. "You have a point," I sheepishly offered. "But there's more. I left because someone…that I know…had their child taken away from them and given to some other family. Everyone thought it was a miscarriage, but I seem to be the only one in the world who knows the truth. The girl is alive."

She sighed. "Again, what are you going to do though? Are you going to take this child away from her new parents? Have you even talked with her biological folks to tell them what you know?"

I considered everything she said, and again I found myself for a loss at words. But in this case, I didn't tell her the biggest reason why on this point, I could not budge. The abducted was my brother's daughter, and as I was possibly the only one in the world who knew the truth about what had happened, I had to act. But I couldn't just waltz in and tell the girl's parents the situation. It was too…complicated.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. But look," I said, as I grabbed her and we began swinging back towards the prison. "You have a few more years left before your parole hearing. They may let you out early for good behavior. When you get out, if you need anything…and I mean anything…just call me."

As we ended the brief jaunt from the graveyard to the prison and landed on the roof, hidden away from all the security cameras and guards, I handed her a card. It was the number for my hotel room, along with an email address.

Elizabeth smirked playfully. "You use email, huh?" She then looked at me and smiled. "Seriously though, that's very sweet of you to offer help like that. But just think about what I said, huh?"

I nodded, then, after making sure the cameras had rotated away from where I needed to jump to maneuver, I grabbed Elizabeth and crawled back down towards the window leading back into her cell, bent the bars open, and gently placed her back in, as she handed me the mannequin and the poncho. I then adjusted the bars again, and looked back at her from behind the bars.

She sat back down on her bed, the cellmate sound asleep, and looked back at me as she leaned against the wall. "So even if you do go after this missing kid…what are you going to do afterwards?"

I shrugged, realizing I truly didn't know.

She continued. "I have a suggestion for you, Kaine," she said. "Try opening your heart sometime. You've been hurt, and I can tell…but you'd be surprised what you might find, and who could help heal you…or better yet, who you might be able to heal."

She smiled mysteriously and lay down on the bed, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Kaine, and thank you," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth," I whispered back, and leapt off the wall and into the darkness.

I jumped around until I reached a nearby rooftop, landed onto it and lay down, letting the rain strike my twisted and repulsive form. I pondered over what Elizabeth had said, but I immediately realized that it was not fair. She had already savored the sweet taste of vengeance, and was now quite content with paying for it.

I had not yet had my vengeance, and I wanted it. Not even for me, but for Ben. Norman Osborn had to pay for his murder.

A voice inside me wondered if I the real reason I wanted to live was just so I could have this vengeance and an excuse to kill again, but I remembered why this was most assuredly not the case.

I also had another, nobler goal.

I wanted to be part of a family. I wanted to know my brother. I wanted compassion, caring, and common ground. And Ben had shown me that it was possible. Even though he had passed, I knew that the same sort of goodwill existed in my "other" brother.

But it wasn't going to be easy. Peter and I did not share the same sort of…history…that Ben and I did. I didn't know how he would react upon seeing me. I also didn't know if, even if nothing happened upon our meeting, he would believe me or even want to associate with me. I chided myself for having built up such a network of distrust in my past. I wasn't worthy of all this just yet.

But by saving his daughter…perhaps he would see that there was more to me than my monstrosity.

As the rain poured over me, I closed my eyes and recalled the events in Italy a few weeks ago that had led me down this path.


	2. Chapter 1

**_2 weeks ago_ – San Gimignano, Italy**

As was customary for this time of day, I was once again crouched on a rooftop. The sun was dying a slow death, the horizon lit brilliantly in a spectacular display. I looked off in the distance.

From one of the towers of the castle, I noted the birds were rapidly vanishing, fleeing to their nests, and the downtown was visible from a distance, approximately 5 miles off in the distance. I could just make out the residents retiring for the evening. The number of towers that dotted this sleepy little town were abundant, casting shadows over the town that grew larger and larger as the light continued to fade away.

Sunset.

As my thoughts turned away from the surroundings, I couldn't help but reflect on the irony of how and why I had ended up here. I had swindled, stowed away, and robbed my way here, for two purposes. To end a life, and to restore another – bring a balance of sorts to the world. I had survived on the outskirts of this sleepy little town for the last few months, biding my time, following he who I had sworn to kill, along with she who I had sworn to restore, when suddenly, this past week, a hitch arose in the plan. A third party had become involved.

For a time, I had been content that these new players were adequate surrogates, and I even contemplating dropping half of my mission altogether – only focusing on the kill. But then, word came through the grapevine that the plans had changed. A trip to New York was scheduled, and it sounded like it was to be permanent, and to return to a life of I could not allow, nor tolerate.

Thus, it was time to take May Parker into my custody, and so I had arrived at the Kingpin's grotto turned residence on the outskirts of this historic town of 7,000, evading all security.

It had been a breeze to get here, in that I simply had taken advantage of the fact that the family car had been parked in an alleyway, to where I had been lead by one of the all-too-easy to bribe local residents that had only been able to get by on his field work in the area vineyards, and nothing more. I had managed to crawl underneath the parked vehicle and latched onto the bottom of the vehicle, wrapping myself in my cloak. Pollution did not matter to an individual like myself that had already become physically and mentally deformed. About ten minutes later, the car had moved and I clung for the sake of my worthless life as I could sense the destination was near. Moments later, as the car had drove over the moat of the castle, I made my move and in as fast a motion as possible, I dropped to the ground and then bounced up to the tower, in which I now crouched, hiding.

I surveyed the castle again. Guards and security cameras were crawling all over the place. I reviewed the plans of the castle mentally, which I had managed to obtain simply by consulting a local museum. If I had calculated this correctly, the tower on which I now stood was directly above the family room. The information I had bribed Fisk's rogue agents for revealed that the family room was where May usually was situated.

I covered my face with the mask, wrapped my cloak/jacket/shawl around my form, and then peered down what appeared to have once been a set of stairs, but had recently been converted to a chimney of sorts. As it was the summer, I was sure that this was not being used. Using the spider-powers, I crawled inside, maneuvering past the exhaust pipes and other apparatus. I turned upside down and reached near the end, and peered in the room.

Success. No one was there. And sure enough, a crib was in the corner. I mentally thanked myself for including web-shooters on this trip, a nod to my "template," and then I webbed the four security cameras before sliding in.

I had to move – fast. As I moved to the crib, I suddenly heard the sound of a door opening, and grit my teeth as I immediately realized I had miscalculated.

There was a bathroom behind where I stood, and out of it came Vanessa Fisk, wife of the Kingpin.

She was about to lunge for the intercom and summon the guards, but before she could, I immediately grabbed her with one arm and covered her mouth with another, moving impossibly fast.

She did not resist, and I spoke. "Be quiet, and you won't be harmed." She complied. Then I removed the hand off of her mouth and webbed the door shut rather tightly.

She laughed. "The guards will realize something is wrong when they see what you've done to the cameras. It's just a matter of time before they barge in."

_Damn_, I thought. _Well, might as well make the most of it_. I decided to learn a little bit about exactly how this thing had happened.

"Why exactly are you raising this child? Why is this so important to you? You know it's not yours," I spoke, in an accusatory tone.

She smirked, grabbing the sleeping child and hoisting her over her shoulder. "I would turn that question around and ask you the same. Why exactly are you here, trying to take my child? Someone hire you? Is this a trick by Osborn? I can tell you right now, I want to be a parent and I have been ready to raise this child as my own. And you'll take her over my dead body. Honest to God."

I hesitated for a moment, deciding to try a different tack. "You do know Osborn has injected her with a formula, and it's probably a matter of time before she becomes deformed and twisted."

The woman rolled her eyes and sat down in a chair next to the crib, shaking her head. "First off, it doesn't matter. My husband has access to the best scientists in the world, and we knew what we were getting into when Osborn offered her to us. The day we took her in, we immediately had her...detoxed, shall we say."

Interesting. "I see. Nevertheless, you have still taken this girl away from her rightful parents," I said, moving towards her, reaching an arm out—giving her one last opportunity to stand down—"and for that, I must intervene."

She smiled coyly. "I'm sure you must, undoubtedly. But unfortunately, I'm a pretty happy customer." She then slid a hand into her pockets. My danger sense didn't go off, so I calmly watched...and mentally I noted the guards/goons hadn't entered yet.

As her hand re-emerged, she produced a gold-looking rock that glowed brilliantly, about the size of her hand, and held it up to me.

Immediately, I felt a sharp, shooting pain all across my body, and I immediately fell to my knees, clutching myself. And then...nothing.

Nothing!

I was stunned. The aches and tearing from the clone degeneration that I had been living with all these years, that I had found a way to inhibit—gone. Was this really possible?

She smiled. "I see you like this, don't you?" I was about to respond, when suddenly the door burst open and in barged the goons. Twenty of them.

Oh, hell, no.

Vanessa smiled, walking away with the baby and waving to me as she walked out the door and closed it slowly. Meanwhile, I was trying to grapple with the fact that the tears in my hand had miraculously healed, while at the same time not having detected these men who were getting ready to pounce on me, any moment-

Without warning, one jumped at me and the other nineteen followed, landing blow after blow at me, and somehow, I could not summon any of my superhuman strength. I tried to fight back, but it was for naught. Kick, punch, uppercut, elbow, knee, headbutt. Pain, pain, pain.

A chill went down my spine as I noted that it almost felt as if my powers hadn't existed. And in the next moment, as a blow connected with my head, I succumbed to unconsciousness. But just before I faded away, I saw the dim outline of the big boned Kingpin himself enter the room and yell something about keeping "homeless bums" out of his residence.

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

_Pain..._

I woke up, and looked around.

I appeared to be in some alleyway, but fortunately, I recognized it. By a stroke of luck, I had been dumped back somewhere downtown. And apparently Fisk hadn't been too interested in trying to figure out who or what I was. In fact, it appeared to be the same alley where I had began the attempt to infiltrate Fisk's lair.

I stood up, and noted the pain from the mysterious object Fisk's wife had produced had subsided. But the "usual" pain, that of degeneration...that, which had been my constant companion since my creation...was back. I was baffled. And in the next instant, I craved something else.

I needed to understand what was the significance of the rock. Unless I had been hallucinating, the rock had momentarily stunned me, but had actually done what I had thought was impossible – reversing my clone degeneration.

This was different from the inhibiting drugs I had been taking to slow down/temporarily halt the process. This was sending the process in the completely opposite direction.

And yet...again, unless I had been hallucinating, my spider-powers had disappeared in almost the same instant. _Unfathomable..._

After another moment of pondering what had happened to me, and what this meant, I was interrupted by a bunch of street urchins pointing at me and whispering hurriedly, off in the distance. As I stood up slowly, all three of them screamed and ran off.

I smirked, and then dusted myself off. I covered up my face with the cloak and made sure none of my skin was showing, and then I trooped over to the local pub where I had made contact with the initial informant.

After finding a suitable cover and "cleaning up," I headed to the local pub where I decided to meet with the informant who had helped me orchestrate the failed rescue attempt. I walked in and plopped down on a barstool, looking around.

The place was deserted, as usual. A group of three men sat in a corner, talking quietly, glancing at me for a moment when I had entered, and then turning back to their conversation. I nodded at the bartender, which was the signal for "fix me up with a whiskey." He quickly prepared the drink and slid it over in exchange for a few liras, which amazingly, were still accepted in this village.

I downed the drink rather quickly, trying to shake off the sensation of being stunned that still lingered after Vanessa's "attack." As I finished off the glass, the door opened and the informant strolled in jovially. He took a seat next to me, not making eye contact.

"(So did it go well)?" he asked, in Italian.

I shot him a look, under my cloak, and my burning eye told him all he needed to know.

"(I see, I see)," he responded, stroking his chin. "(Well, unfortunately, I have some bad news to report. The Kingpin left for America this morning.)"

I slammed the table on which my empty bottle stood, knocking it over and startling the trio in the corner. I ignored their reactions, and pointed a finger at my "friend." "(You idiot)," I roared. "(How convenient, that you didn't give me a date when this was supposed to happen!)"

The guy chuckled, until I grabbed him by the neck and he started choking. I grinned with amusement as his normally narrow eyes bulged open to surreal proportions, before I let him go and he clasped his throat, gasping for air.

I slapped him hard on the back, trying to appear good-natured, and then as I walked out of the establishment, I nodded momentarily at the group in the corner, which had witnessed the scene wide-eyed with amazement.

A few hours later, by midnight, I had made my way to Livorno and managed to stow away on a rogue ferry that shipped for the mob to New York, armed with enough food to last me the week or so that I knew it was going to take. I had somehow snuck into a small janitor's closet on this vessel, and after that, I could only curse my luck at having to sit and do absolutely nothing for the next week. But so I did, and meanwhile, to my utter ignorance, events were already taking place that, had I known occurred, would have saved me much of the trouble that I was about to encounter upon my return to America.

A week passed by and I had finally arrived in New York. After somehow getting past immigration and customs, I managed to work my way to a pile of cash I had stowed away in a sewer in one of the worse neighborhoods in the Brooklyn area several years ago - $80,000, to be exact. It took a lot of avoiding people, getting strange looks from passersby, and finding a proper "entrance," but I was able to get into the sewer system and grab the money, which had remained untouched over time. _It really says something about the sanitation in the city, _I pondered, realizing that clearly, no one ever maintained or bothered to clean out the sewer system every now and then. After securing the money, I used the same amount of caution in getting out, and then I used some of the cash for fare to get me to a nearby hotel – a Red Carpet, which was ironic because the place was the total opposite of a "red carpet treatment."

After checking into the place, which seemed like a dump (perfect, I thought) - I had decided then to create a business card and paid a trip to the nearby Staples, although I felt it was really not that necessary – but perhaps it might make it easier for prospective companies to contact me regarding any employment opportunities. While there, I bought a laptop for myself, and stopped at a market to get some food to last me a few weeks, and grabbed some weightlifting equipment. When the evening rolled around, I also made my visit to Elizabeth [see Prologue] and the next morning I had planned to go into a doctor's office and try to secure a janitorial job. I noted it was going to be tough to disguise the scars and the disfigurement – I decided to see if temporary makeup might do the trick – after all, I figured once I got past the interview they probably wouldn't care.

**_Now_**

After applying the disguise, I left the hotel room and headed for the office, at Wyckoff Heights Medical Center. On the way there, I smirked to myself the whole time while walking, thinking about how my "source," whose intelligence I retained, would have been able to secure a high paying job with ease. But me? An exact duplicate of him, except for the disfiguration and mental issues? I had to settle for cleaning toilets. How delightful.

The medical center was within walking distance of the hotel, which was rather convenient. I entered and noted the charm of the place right away – indeed, this was probably as much of a dump as my hotel, perhaps even worse. I noted two gangbangers arguing with each other in the waiting room, cursing and openly flaunting their weapons. I looked at them for a moment, shook my head, and sat down at one of the empty chairs. I was waiting for Ernesto, who I had talked to over the phone a few hours before, and had suggested that I come down for an interview.

As I waited for about five minutes, the two rivals suddenly turned their attention to me, exchanged glances, and then marched up to me with purpose. I didn't make eye contact, looking down at the ground. This didn't need to get ugly, but if they pushed me, the surroundings seemed to suggest I could do what was necessary without arousing much attention. It seemed they had not taken kindly to my shaking my head as I had entered.

"Ay man, you got a cellphone?" asked one.

I shook my head, continuing to stare at the ground.

The other put his face underneath my eyes, trying to get me to look at him. "Yo dude, what's wrong with you? Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

I smirked as he tried looking at me, and that infuriated the punk. "Aw, that's it yo, you think it's funny huh?" He produced his gun, but before he could do anything, a stocky Hispanic man entered the waiting area from a rickety door, and seemed to shoo the two punks away.

The second punk gave me one last angry look, and then stalked out the waiting room with his companion. The Hispanic man then turned back to me and offered a hand. "You must be George Watson. I'm Ernesto."

I took my gaze away from the floor and finally looked up. He did not immediately get repulsed, so the makeup had to have been working. I nodded and offered a gloved hand to him. "Nice to meet you," I responded. The fake name had been easy enough – take the first name of the man who could have been my future father in law, and take the last name of the woman that was my "source's" wife.

He directed me to follow him, and we went to a cluttered Janitor's closet, where he laid out the hours (late evening, usually overnight), the pay (20 dollars an hour...adequate), and then asked me a few very simple questions regarding my prior employment (worked in a science lab), what equipment I had experience with (test tubes), and if I had any other questions (I had none). After going through all that, he ended the interview by hiring me, explaining that one of their janitors had mysteriously quit and they needed to fill the position quickly. I accepted right away, and was given the start date – tomorrow.

I shook his hand again, and he escorted me out, handing me a temporary entrance ID and some keys that I'd be able to use. As we reached the door, we parted ways and I stepped outside-

-to suddenly feel the cold metal touch scrape against my disfigured cheek. I instantly knew who it was, and this time I was not going to hold back. I looked at the punk from the hospital, who tried mimicking my smirk from earlier, cocking the gun sideways, planted on my cheek. "What now, jackass?" He then gestured to my hands and pockets. "Come on B, let's go. I ain't got all day."

But then it hit me – I had not sensed this attack coming, and...I couldn't respond. Suddenly, the sensation that had hit me when Vanessa Fisk had produced the mysterious rock near me resurfaced and I dropped to my knees, screaming in pain. For a moment, this confused my would-be-attacker, but he just knelt down and stuck the gun up to my cheek again as I gritted my teeh.

"Come on yo, no acting! Let's do this!" he said, getting frustrated. And then, he dropped the gun without warning.

I looked up at him for a moment, confused, and then I saw him looking off in the distance. I turned to see what the commotion was...and found it.

Smack dab in the middle of the street was a yellow rock, glowing intensely, attracting a crowd of onlookers. The thing was about a story high and about a crosswalk's width in diameter. In fact, it appeared to be the very same type of rock that Vanessa Fisk had attacked me with...but how? And where had it come from?

As I walked closer to it, as I suspected, the pain intensified within my body, but at the same time, a feeling of refreshment and energy coursed through my veins, and I quickly rolled up my sleeves to see scars healing themselves.

I had to get closer.

I was oblivious to the crowd as I walked up to the rock, ignoring the pain that now threatened to lay me out from the sheer high of it all. For a moment, I labored to breathe, and then I stretched my arms out, closed my eyes, and was about to embrace the rock, when suddenly I felt the air slipping away. I looked around, startled, and then heard an explosion, followed by the smell of smoke...and dead bodies.

I found that I had somehow ended up on a roof, just above where I had been standing. And unless I had gone nuts, I hadn't been the one to get myself up here. I then turned around and saw exactly who had pulled me away...even, saved me? I had to restrain my jaw for a moment as my eyes took in the sight in front of me.

I stared at a woman dressed in a leather costume, accentuated by fur at certain parts of the costume. Her white hair rustled in the wind, and a eye-mask-piece of some sort covered some of her face. A neck-decoration piece of some sort traveled across her neck, and below that...my eyes traveled lower...and lower...and lower...before she grimaced and shook her head. "Jeez, you nut! You coulda been killed!" She then pointed back at where we had been standing. I crawled over to the edge of the building and looked.

The rock was still there, but dead bodies were sprawled nearby, some burning slowly. Smoke billowed in the area...and the building across the street from the hospital was on fire. I then noted movement near the rock, and I heard maniacal cackling, but before my eyes could glance again at the area...the woman pulled me back, away from the edge, and lay me down. She then gritted her teeth, whispering "Hang on," to me. After tossing out a rope from a utility belt she had on, she jumped off the roof of the building we stood on. I tried to yell at her to stop, but she ignored me as she leapt down into the street. I couldn't find the strength to get up, which I now knew definitely had to do with the yellow rock below. I heard the woman from a distance bark out orders at crowd of people that had been nearby to clear the area.

After a few moments, I heard her speak. "What the hell do you want, Nitro?"

My breath caught in my throat for a second. Nitro? Here?

And then it all clicked. I remembered him well, in my stint at Ryker's, and had seen him serve as the primary catalyst for the escape of around one hundred criminals, including myself, from the facility. A simple explosion, and we were all free.

Before that, during the stay there, I had spent some time talking with him, learning about his superpowers, and one night, I had brainstormed about how a power like this could be suppressed as well as expanded. The theory had actually led me to do some serious research on the chemistry of explosions and the human anatomy, and I had made quite a bit of progress before we all got our chance to escape. From what I had learned during that time, I didn't think I'd ever need to use any of it in a practical sense, but now, as I heard the sound of another explosion and a solitary scream, I suddenly realized I'd have to put those theories to the test, to see if they truly worked.

I crawled back near the edge and looked down. Smoke billowed where another building had stood, and the man looked right up at me. The woman's form was nowhere to be found, and I wondered if she had survived. But I couldn't do anything about it right now, as Nitro cackled maniacally.

"Why hello, Kaine, old buddy old pal!" he yelled loudly. "I see we've all been doing well since the escape, doing jobs here and there." He shook his hand, causing it to mysteriously vanish, and suddenly near me a mini explosion caused me to fall off the roof and fire burned into my skin. I screamed as I tumbled off the building and onto the pavement, hearing my ribs crack. _God dammit!_

Nitro laughed again, and as I lay with my chest against the concrete, trying to recover, I heard the sound of Nitro's footsteps approaching me. The glowing around us indicated the rock was nearby. This thing truly was my Kryptonite, I thought.

Nitro came right next to me and kicked me, and then he smiled, lowering down till he looked me in the eyes. "I guess you can make the connection as to why I'm here," he said, revealing a disgusting set of teeth as he grinned. "You've probably seen this rock before. Think hard. Who showed it to you for the first time?"

It suddenly clicked. Nitro wasn't doing this on his own. This had been an orchestrated act...designed to get rid of me once and for all. And to add insult to injury...it had been contracted out to this schlub.

By the Kingpin.

I groaned in realization, and Nitro nodded. "Yes, yes! Good...you remember...even though I wasn't there. Now hold that thought one moment!" he said, turning to his hand, which was now slowly starting to reappear in a smoky sort of haze. As I tried to reach my hand out to attempt the Mark, he kicked me hard and I roared in pain.

He stopped smiling. "I SAID, hold that thought," he hissed. After a few more seconds, he walked over me, and I noticed that we were both right next to the glowing rock. "Boy," he remarked thoughtfully. "This is going to be pretty."

He looked at his hand, smiled again, and nodded at me. "Seatbelts fastened, Kaine, old buddy old pal? This is going to be a fun ride!"

As he prepared himself to explode once more, my mind raced in a panic. I had come back to America to fulfill my promise to Ben Reilly. But if I didn't act soon, I'd be joining him in clone degeneration dust, and with this rock that apparently had some painful neutralizing effect on me, who knew what else could happen.

"Ah, the hand is ready!" Nitro exclaimed triumphantly, as he noted it had re-materialized in full. "Well, without further ado, here we go!"

Uh-oh.

**TO BE CONCLUDED**


	3. Chapter 2

I grit my teeth. My nerves were frayed. I was on the verge of blacking out from sheer pain.

Above me towered a man with white hair, cackling maniacally – ready to explode.

Yes, you got that right – ready to explode. The man standing above me was the supervillain Nitro, who got his kicks blowing up things using nothing else but his own body.

And unfortunately, his next target was me. He had just finished saying his goodbyes, and was about to explode, when an idea clicked in my head. It was a desperate idea, but I had little choice at this point.

From the corner of my eye, I quickly eyed the large yellow rock that glowed next to me, a material that had been the source of all my problems to date, and which I also should point out, was still a complete mystery to me. It had caused me much pain simply by being around it, yet at the same time, it offered somewhat of a healing factor to me and my accursed clone degeneration.

And then, as Nitro began fading away, I knew what I had to do. In moments, he would re-appear in the form of an explosion, most likely taking me in the blast and probably killing me. As he grinned, resembling the Cheshire Cat while dissipating, I suddenly reached out with my right hand and immediately fused my Mark into the rock.

It caught Nitro off guard, but it was too late as there was nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly, the explosion came. Heat overtook me, and within moments, everything went to black.

…_._

"_Insanity, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder, Peter..."_

_I threw a few more punches before ultimately being outmaneuvered, and then I threw the taxicab at the red and blue blur that had been wisecracking and in general mocking me, seeming completely callous to my predicament._

_ I needed the cure for my illness. Ryder was the only solution for it, and my..."counterpart"...was in the way._

….

_I stood tall, choking the freak, who had cheated me out of a cure for this curse of mine...this degeneration. As I heard his neck snap, I grinned, satisfied that even if I could not be cured, this fraud who had attempted to use me for his own machinations had now paid the ultimate price._

…

_I looked at Peter. "Run. Run and screw the rest."_

…

_I clutched at the wounds in my body, knowing my time was fading. I knew it was over, though. This was finally the end. I was about to die, without having achieved the cure. But at least I had died for a noble cause...I had saved my "brother"..._

…

I opened my eyes and breathed.

Was this heaven? Hell? Something else?

I looked around, surveying the area.

The rock was gone.

Nitro had disappeared.

Then, I noticed black marks close to where I lay. I managed to stagger up, and looked at the ground. A huge black charred circle was on the ground where I had been lying, for God-knew how long. The mark didn't extend any further than around my immediate person, but smoke continued to come from the concrete.

As I raised my hand to dust myself off, I paused for a moment and looked closely at my hand. For a moment, I thought there might have been some soot on my hand, and I quickly dusted off the whiteness.

Or at least, I tried. Because nothing happened.

And that's when I began to look at the rest of my body. The scars were...gone.

I touched my face...gone.

_What if..._

I ran to the closest window that was still intact, and looked at my face. What I saw startled me.

Peter Parker's face looked right back at me, wearing a look of surprise. The hair was still long, the beard was still grimy and crust-filled, and my height was still more than his, but otherwise, I now resembled my "template" exactly.

With no clone degeneration apparent, either.

I nearly collapsed from shock when I realized what had happened.

_ This can't be real..._I thought as I came to grips with my altered appearance.

Somehow, some way, the explosion, combined with my fusing the Mark on the mysterious rock, had caused this.

A complete reversal and apparent cure of my clone degeneration.

On the verge of death, I had not only survived, but had somehow been saved.

I wanted to celebrate, but wasn't sure what to do. As I looked at my clothes, dusting them off and realizing I'd probably need to get some new ones, I suddenly heard a low moan coming from off in the distance. As I moved away from the blast site, I saw the leather-clad woman lying face down on the concrete. She looked badly burnt, her costume torn in certain areas.

For a moment, I considered just leaving her there. It would be sweet revenge for the way the world had shown apathy and disgust towards me.

But in the end, my humanity won out. I rolled her over and picked her up. She tried opening her eyes and smiled when she looked at me. "P-p-Peter?" she asked weakly.

My eyes widened. This woman knew him? Ugh. I didn't want to get involved in a situation like that.

As I said nothing, I leapt in the air after making sure no one was around.

Or at least, I tried. I fell back down to earth, catching the now-dozing form of the woman.

_ Well, this is _interesting. So now it appeared my powers were gone too.

Inconvenient? Yes. In the long run, could this actually be a good thing? Oh hell yes. The memories I had from my template recalled numerous occasions where I had wished my powers to just go away.

If I really had gotten past the degeneration, and on top of it if I was now just a normal human being, it would be perfect – presuming I changed my lifestyle and location, which would be easy.

Completing my vows? Might be a little harder without any special abilities.

But for now, my mind turned back to the present. I decided the best course of action would be to just walk it out, take a bus, or something else. Before leaving, I surveyed the deserted area.

No bodies were present, so I assumed most of those in the area had been able to get away before any explosion. A few small fires burned around the area, but there was no major damage to any building. It would have been easy to take this woman to my new employer, Wyckoff, as I had just walked out, but my experience with the goons that had tried to shoot me told me it'd probably be best to take her elsewhere if she needed any sort of serious treatment. Eerily, no one had come by to bring assistance after the explosion. This truly was a dump if law enforcement could not be bothered to come to the scene.

I headed for the subway. It was late evening now, which meant I'd get a few strange looks, but nothing out of the ordinary for New York, while carrying the unconscious/sleeping woman (whose name I still didn't know, I might add).

Eventually, I came upon another hospital in a significantly better part of town, inconspicuously made my way to the street, and then got her checked in and paid the bill and left. I privately wondered if my altered looks had given me some sort of altruism mentally as well, but I didn't dwell on it for long as I headed back home.

Unfortunately, that wasn't to be the case the next day.

**./././**

24 hours later, I was in full swing at Wyckoff, cleaning up an empty medical research lab, when I noticed an open window in the lab.

Odd. This was the 30th floor. They had to be nuts, but maybe there was a reason for-

A coughing noise interrupted me as I was about to close the window, and I saw movement from the corner of my eyes.

I turned my head to the direction of the commotion, startled for a moment, and found the beneficiary of my altruism sitting on a windowsill, cross-legged a la Sharon Stone. For a moment, I looked at her.

To be honest, I probably gawked at her.

She was wearing a playfully low-cut black sweater that contrasted marvelously with her platinum blonde hair, sunglasses pulled up against her hair. She also wore a leather miniskirt, with black boots that went up to her knees. In the middle of filing her nails, she stopped, put her hand to her mouth in apology, and smiled brilliantly at me. My knees buckled.

_Damn._

"Can't let a girl thank her hero...Kaine?" she purred, hopping off the windowsill and approaching me. "The name's Felicia Hardy. I go by the alias of the Black Cat – supposed to be a secret, but I guess I can trust you with that information."

_What? Why does she trust me? How does she know my-_

As if she heard my thoughts, she answered. "Don't worry...I've seen you in the news, and I have to say I've always been intrigued." The woman known as Felicia now stood directly in front of me. "But yeah, I wanted to say thank you formally. So I guess this means you won't mind then, if I do this..."

As she trailed off, she leaned in, and her smell was absolutely intoxicating, as she kissed me on the cheek. My head swirled, overwhelmed, as she was now within inches of me. She smirked, somewhat amused at the impact she was having on me.

_Oh yeah?_

Without warning, I grabbed her and pulled her face to mine, locking her in a passionate kiss. For a moment, she was surprised, and then she returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After that, things ramped up. Doors were locked, curtains were pulled down, clothes flew off, and for the next few hours I thanked my stars that I was the only one on duty that evening, as pure lust took over and I became quite occupied with receiving her thanks – so to speak.

After about the fourth or fifth round of "thanksgiving," as we lay intertwined on a reclining chair, Felicia ran a long nail across my chest.

"Your degeneration...it's healing awfully quickly. In fact, I'd bet it's gone with the way it looks."

I cringed at that statement, as I looked away, not wanting to think about what I had done the previous night.

Yesterday, after coming back home from work and looking in the mirror, I had taken a razor to my face and made cuts all over, imitating my former scars. The reason?

If I was going to continue on with this quest of mine, even without my abilities (which I had noted had also gone completely absent, short of my premonitory skills), I could not really resemble my template, and the problem was that after the incident with Nitro - even with the beard - I looked way too much like Peter Parker (even though yes, technically I was him). And so, like I had in the past, I had taken matters into my own hands.

But wait—how did she know about my degeneration? I quickly asked her.

She smiled. "Well, I guess I used to be...uh, pretty good friends with your 'template,' Mr. Parker..."

"WHAT?" I roared, pushing her off the chair and grabbing my clothes, quickly getting back in them.

Then it clicked.

This woman, Felicia Hardy, had to have been one of Peter's old flames...and when she saw a clone of Peter, willing, available, and easy to manipulate, through me she could live vicariously and have one more romp with him, so to speak. After all, now, I even resembled him.

And now it made sense, why she was so cavalier about revealing her identity...whatever it was she did as a superhero. God, she was sick. I felt used beyond belief, and I seethed as I towered over her, all my attraction having disappeared.

Felicia held up a hand. "Wait. Wait." she said, quickly jumping up, walking past me and sliding into her own garments. "Look...I'll admit, part of the reason why...at least on my end...I was happy to spend the last few hours doing what we did...was because yes, you are Peter. To some extent...and I miss him. I miss what I used to have with him. A lot."

Then she pointed an accusatory finger at me, as she grabbed her sweater. "But hey...my plan was just to kiss you on the cheek, say thank you, and head out. _You_ were the one who escalated." She smirked at me again. "So there."

As Felicia began tying her boots back on, she shook her head. "Anyway, I can see you have some issues to work out still, so this probably won't work beyond the little jaunt we had here. So I'll let you deal with these problems. But if you need anything else, you can give me a call." She pulled out a card from her purse and left it next to my equipment. As she headed to the door, she stopped to look back at me for a long moment, then shook her head and went on her way, walking out of the lab.

For a while, I sat on the reclining chair, unsure what to do next. After a while, I got up and picked up the card and pocketed it. I then headed to my equipment, ready to continue the cleanup work, when I accidentally knocked the mop over, which in turned knocked over a paper-holder that housed several manila files.

I immediately grabbed the files, frantically trying to ensure nothing was altered and out of place, when suddenly, it happened just as I touched the folders.

**I see.**

_"She's yours," the defeated woman said, handing me the infant. "My life just took a different path after today. I can't be responsible for this child anymore. So do what you will with her."_

**I see.**

I snapped out of it, and shuddered.

Well, the powers were gone, but those damned precognitive visions were still there. What was this one all about?

As I replayed what I had just seen in my mind, I suddenly looked closer at a file that had fallen out of the folder.

_ Fisk, Vanessa. _

_ Cancer._

I quickly recalled the vision, and stifled a gasp. In the vision I had just seen, she had been handing me a child, in this very building.

And then I knew what I had to do. Tomorrow morning, I needed to be in that lobby when she arrived.

As I put the files back, and proceeded to finish up the rest of the work for the night, I was surprised that an assumed name wasn't used. It signaled one of two things—either there were actually high-class, expensive doctors working here (doubtful) or that an element of desperation was involved (very likely with the Fisk family always on the go).

Either way, the next day we were going to chat, and if the vision held (which they always did, so far), I would be one step closer to clearing all my unpaid debts.

On the way home, while reflecting on the vision, I remembered I had seen something else while I had been blacked out. I tried to think about whether it was connected to what I had just seen, with Vanessa, but I couldn't remember any of the details, which was odd. All I remembered was a sensation as though I was on Earth, but a radically different version of it, where somehow, things were completely different.

Almost as if, for a moment, I had glimpsed an alternate reality.

Nah. Snap out of it, I told myself.

**./././**

The next morning, I sat in the lobby, wearing sunglasses and this time having armed myself with a gun. The powers had still not returned, and it seemed that save for the visions, they might be completely gone. Which as I said before, was fine with me. I just needed to be prepared in case idiots tried to harass me again – therefore, I brought the gun.

Around 10 AM, she walked in with the child, and I made myself scarce, playing the role of the homeless bum in tattered clothing. Hopefully she didn't recognize me.

At least, not right away.

I pretended to be asleep, but watched the scene play out in its entirety. She seemed confident and bold, threatening the receptionist, and finally getting admittance. I waited through the hour, and knew that she was probably learning her fate at that very moment. Sure enough, at around 11, she walked back out of the lobby, looking defeated, stunned, and dazed.

She sat down a few seats away from me, and that was when I made my move.

I stood up and walked in front of her.

For a moment, she was oblivious, and then she looked up at me. She didn't gasp. Apparently, she must have still been in shock.

"Kaine," she said, emotionless. "I suppose you're here to mock me."

"No, just trying to continue our conversation from Italy," I said. "Being an employee of this facility, I happened to learn of your condition. I'd hope you want to reconsider now?"

For a moment, she looked back at the infant she was holding, sleeping soundly. She smiled sadly. Then she turned back to me.

"She's yours," the defeated woman said, handing me the infant. "My life just took a different path after today. I can't be responsible for this child anymore. So do what you will with her."

_And there's the vision_, I thought. _Still batting 1.000_. I gingerly grabbed the baby, and was struck by how much of a perfect mix she was of Mary Jane and Parker – she had the mother's auburn hair, and the hazel eyes of the father. I privately wondered if she'd come to possess her father's powers, but that was irrelevant for now.

I looked back at Vanessa. I could have left, but something about her intrigued me. Had this been a week ago, while I was still suffering from the degeneration, I would have envied her, a woman having been given a death sentence, and eventually having an end to all the pain.

But now, after the "cure," I pitied her, and could only try and empathize. I sat down next to her.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked, genuinely curious.

She looked at me, her eyes void of any enthusiasm. "Don't give me any line about there still being hope, or that I have something to live for. You of all people should understand," she commented.

I remained silent. It would have been adding insult to injury if I told her my degeneration was gone. So I let her think it still existed, and hoped the scars did a good enough job selling it.

She then smiled, but it was not a genuinely happy expression. "What am I going to do? I'm going to make the man who put me through years of misery pay for it. I have nothing to lose now anyway."

I nodded. Casually, I asked her how. "Are you going to kill him? If you need someone to do it, let me handle it for you. You should get your rest, instead of-"

"No!" she yelled, before calming down immediately. "No. I'm not going to kill him." She put her head in her hands and moaned. "Besides, blood is already on my hands. I killed my own son. My own flesh and blood!"

I remembered the death of Richard Fisk, and knew that had been a turning point in this woman's life.

She collected herself, and looked back up at me. "No...I took this child in because I wanted to start over. I guess it wasn't destined to be," she said. "And now, I'm a miserable wreck, heading for death. But you asked me, what am I going to do?"

She smiled bitterly. "I am going to die, but I'm going to make him suffer. I'm going to destroy him mentally, just like he did to me. Surely you, of all people, can understand that."

I thought about it for a moment. Could I understand? Especially in this "reformed" state, was I still capable of sympathizing with someone in this state of misery? I recalled the way I used to think about Reilly. I knew I was going to die, but I always craved, more than anything else, taking Ben to death right with me. It wasn't fair that he had happiness while I suffered.

But now, I realized just how hopeless I truly had been. In our last meeting, Ben had given me motivation to live, and to redeem myself. I had been born a twisted mockery of a man, but Reilly, who had gone through almost the same thing, had shown me how to live, and inspired me to turn my own life around. The physical element was just the cherry on the top.

I finally answered her, as I stood up to leave. "I don't agree," I said, walking away with the sleeping May. "But yes. I understand."

I never saw Vanessa Fisk again.

_6 months later_

I sat in the coffee shop, reading the headlines, and waiting.

Things had been going surprisingly well. I had somehow managed to raise the child and support her on the stash of money that I now found to be dwindling rather quickly. I paid a few trips to Elizabeth to see if she could offer any advice or support, and got a few pointers, but it took a lot of self-teaching to figure out just how to change an infant's diapers, prepare milk for her, and give the child adequate attention as she was now learning how to crawl.

It was amusing, the thought of a killer now raising a fresh faced 18 month old baby. But such was life, and waiting was also part of it. Before coming here, I had stopped at Elizabeth's and told her I wouldn't be coming back, but told her to meet me at Reilly's grave when she got out, on the anniversary of his death.

As the one I had been waiting for walked in, I smiled to myself briefly. I had figured it would be too "in-your-face" to call the number on the card. So in my typical fashion, I had stalked her whereabouts, and figured out the routine, the usual spots, and then decided where would be best to corner her. The Coffee Bean, it was.

Felicia was about to proceed to the register when she saw me staring at her.

"Gotcha," I said.

She gave me a look of impatience, then she walked away from the register and took the seat across from me. "Listen, if you're looking to hook up again, sorry buddy. I have a boyfriend now, and-"

I raised my hand for a moment, and then I pulled the stroller behind me and pointed at the sleeping child inside.

"Do you know who...or what...this is?" I asked.

"Well, the Look Who's Talking baby, it ain't," she responded. "No, I don't. Look, what's this all-"

I held up my hand again. "Patience!" I whispered. She was annoyed now, but I didn't care. She was truly my only hope in this situation.

I continued. "This is your...friend's child. I have the DNA record in the stroller."

"Wait, what friend-" she stopped. Then realization dawned on her. "_May!"_

I nodded. She looked at me, and then she looked back at the kid. "Is this some sort of trick? For all I know, this is probably some clone kid, and-"

"The only man capable of creating fully sustainable clones has been dead since just before the birth of this child," I rebutted. "This child's father knows that fact very well. Furthermore, the DNA of this child is a genetic match with the father and the mother. I know, because I possess the father's DNA, and I've kept a strand or two of the mother's from a few times when I met her in the past."

Felicia looked at the child again, and then leaned back in her seat, stunned. "Wow. I just—wow." She looked back at me, cocking an eyebrow. "So just how did you pull this off?"

I proceeded to tell her the entire story, and for the next hour, she sat there enraptured, asking no questions as I told the entire story of my escape from prison, the trip to Europe, learning that Mongrain had been the catalyst for this whole crisis to begin, how I dealt with the Scriers, how I missed out on Osborn, how I shifted my path to the Kingpin, how I ended up back here, and how Vanessa had given up the child to me

Felicia whistled softly. Then she pulled out the paper and pointed out a headline that I had apparently missed. I quickly read it, and shook my head. It reported the violent suicide of the woman yesterday, in front of her husband's eyes, and his reaction. "So she really did take it to him," I commented.

I turned back to her, closing the newspaper. "But now, the last step, is where you come in."

"Me?" she asked, confused.

"Yes," I said. "Look...my physical problems are cured, but...I still have emotional and mental issues. Plenty of them. And I have a few things I need to work out on my own. The last thing I want to do is have to face Peter and Mary Jane again and have to deal with their questions. This was what I owed them, and now the debt is cleared."

"So you want me to give the child to them," she said. She shrugged. "Fine, it shouldn't be a problem."

I nodded. "Good. One request though...let them know it was me, but tell them that they have nothing to fear or worry about from me anymore. I won't be around to bother them."

Felicia froze. "Wait...you're not going to do something stupid, like her, are you?" She pointed at the newspaper.

I smirked. "Maybe a year ago, I might have. But no, it's not like that." I looked off in the distance. "In my mind, I'm always going to be comparing myself to him. And everything around here...sometimes it's easy for him and for others to forget, I share all his memories up until a certain point. Everything he went through as Spider-Man, including Gwen...I remember it all. But he's the rightful owner of all that. I can accept that now."

I looked back at her. "What I can't accept is that there's anything for me in this city then, while he's still here," I said firmly. "So I'm getting out of here."

"Where will you go?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Who knows? Right now, I just want to get out of here. I have no superpowers left, beyond a strange ability to see the future. I can live as normal a life as I want. Maybe start up a psychic business, buy some tarot cards. And that's all."

After taking it all in for a moment, Felicia smiled, standing up. "Well...it's been...interesting, Kaine." She offered a hand, and I clasped it firmly. "I guess this is it, huh?"

I nodded. "Good luck with your man." I began to walk away, before stopping and taking my small companion in my arms briefly. Amazingly, she still slept. I kissed little May on the cheek, my eyes watering for a moment, and then I quickly wiped away the tears and put her back in the stroller.

And then I headed out the door, before stopping and looking back at Felicia and the child. A thought went through my mind, and then I smiled and walked back in.

"You know, you should have some fun with this," I said to Felicia. "Instead of telling them right away it was me, how about you try something else."

Felicia grinned. "I'm all ears."

"Okay. First, go and get some stilts from Wal-Mart, then buy a fake beard from a mask shop. Get a nice perm on your hair, get a long trench coat like I've got on, and then stuff it with a bunch of crap..."

I continued, and after a bout of giggling, she agreed to the plan, after which I was satisfied and left her with May.

**./././**

Felicia Hardy wore her disguise with some trepidation, but mostly just thought this was a great idea. She tried to keep her balance, praying that she didn't fall and that she didn't drop the kid to the floor. Kaine had given Felicia enough to buy all this stuff, although she had tried refusing.

She took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. After a few minutes, the old lady opened it and gasped. "Oh my!" she exclaimed.

"Aunt May," Felicia boomed, activating the voice-alteration device. "It's me...Kaine!"

The old woman staggered back. "Wait...Aunt May...I come in peace," she continued. "I bring you Peter's...daughter...May."

For a moment, the old woman seemed like she was about to have a heart attack, as she clutched herself. Concerned, Felicia almost considered dropping the whole charade, before the woman burst out laughing.

"Oh God! Heh heh heh...wooo...you are hilarious, whoever you are. You got me real good!" she giggled. Felicia was exasperated, and walked in, up to May's couch. She pulled off the beard and the trenchcoat, lowered herself off the stilts, clicked off the voice-changer, and revealed herself.

"Surprise, Ms. Parker...Felicia Hardy," she said.

The woman smiled broadly. "Felicia! I didn't know you were such a jokester!"

Felicia bowed, but was somewhat upset it hadn't really worked. "Thank you, thank you." She then looked at May, who was still smiling, but Felicia had a serious look on her face.

"Actually, Ms. Parker," she continued. "This really is Peter and MJ's daughter."

May's expression became dead serious. "What?"

Felicia raised her eyebrows. _Well, uh, let's see, it looks like I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do here. Maybe I can try this again with Spider and Red after I tell May...but for now...yeaaaaahhhh. Spiders and babies and clones, oh my... _

Out loud, she simply said, "Boy, do I have a lot to tell you."

**./././**

Five hours after leaving Felicia and May behind, I was on a motorcycle, headed out of New York for good, having taken all the money I had left with me. I didn't know where I was going, or what exactly I would do with my only real talent left – the psychic ability – but finally, I was free of the curses, the vows, and the past.

One questioned remained on my mind, annoyingly unresolved.

Would it have been worth it to kill Osborn? After pondering over it for about ten seconds, I let the question remain unanswered. It wasn't my problem anymore, I told myself. He wasn't even human at this rate, I thought, as I recalled the news about him going into SHIELD's custody.

Satisfied that I needed to do no more, my mind moved away from the life of Peter Parker, Spider-Man, New York, superheroes and supervillains for what I hoped would be one of the last times, coincidentally just as I crossed the New York border out of the state...

...and into Salvation.

_Fin_

**Author's Note: And there goes Kaine! Guess it really WASN'T him who showed up at the end of "The Face on the Milk Carton!" Muahaha, nice little curveball we threw at ya. **

**Thanks again to everyone who read this! Just some housekeeping: if you go back and read the other fic I mentioned, "The Face on the Milk Carton" you will appreciate and understand this story a lot more! You can read this story its own as well, but if you haven't read that 10-part saga which builds up to the return of May, please do so! Also, you may recognize that while he's blacked out, Kaine has a vision of the Brand New Day universe (recognize some of those scenes from ASM #609, #635, and #636! If you've been reading my other fics, you know they take place in a universe that went in a different direction after ASM #508 - meaning everything from Sins Past onwards does not count in my "continuity." But why is Kaine having visions of the "BND-verse?" This WILL be explained in the future.**

**Next up: Peter Parker: Spider-Man #166 - EXPLANATIONS. Peter, MJ, Aunt May, and "Kaine" (hehehehe) grapple with the new reality of Baby May! Plus, Aunt May reveals a secret of her own - and it's a doozy! Be there, soon! For now, PLEASE leave a review - good or bad! Excelsior!**


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